Idiot's fever
by Uncle.Dragon
Summary: In this fluff, Yuuji and Shouko are around 30.


He loved taking care of her.

Taking care of his little stalker (?).

Especially when his stalker happened to be ill.

"...You do know... Home cooked meals... Are better than... Processed foods when someone... someone's sick." Mrs. Sakamoto Shouko coughed in between every couple of words, as Sakamoto Yuuji surrounded the black-haired beauty with pillows, and made sure she was covered with the thick duvet. She'd even put an extra blanket over the top of the duvet, just to make sure his Shouko was comfortable.

"Well, I don't know how to make anything else!" Yuuji whined, as he slipped a tanned hand underneath the silky, but messed up bangs (Shouko hadn't been able to get out of bed much, leaving her hair to go wild) and felt the rocketing temperature.

"...Stop doting on me..." Shouko sulked, erupting into a coughing fit.

"Shaddup! Let me do my work!" Yuuji scolded, handing his wife the glass of water from the bedside table, "Now try and get some rest, and I'll see what I can make you." He grinned, and quickly exited the room, before he could pretend to not hear his wife's complaints.

"...Yuuji... I can look after myse-" Shouko coughed violently, before sighing, placing the water onto the bedside table, and getting comfy. Scrunching up her nose, she sniffed, before curling up, letting her eyes close and sleep overtaking her.

"Sorry Shouko, but if I let you cook in that state, you might blow up the whole house." Yuuji muttered to himself outside their room, "Now then... Food." Yuuji hummed as walked down to the kitchen, scoured through the kitchen cupboards – and it seemed that Shouko had no right to talk about Yuuji always eating processed food; their whole freaking kitchen was full of it, save for the one drawer where packets of rice were being stored, and the fridge, where an array of vegetables awaited.

_Hmm... Akihisa did say that home cooked meals were better in this instance..._

Yuuji grinned to himself, proud of his achievement- It was as if he'd never had a good idea in his life... Well, for the most part, that was true.

So, he set off to work.

_And here, in our their hole, the Lion houses himself in the humble kitchen, as Snow White sleeps in her small hutch._

_Expertly, the Lion cooks the rice, practically pouring his emotions into the dish, as the food starts to fry - Just look at that precision. _

_And now, the Lion initiates the vegetable phase - Will he be able to put enough of each vegetable into the mix to keep a delicate balance between each vegetable?_

Yuuji had been speaking as he cooked, continuing to amuse himself as he chopped the vegetables into small cubes, easy for Shouko to eat.

Sooner or later, Yuuji had successfully managed to create a Vegetable Fried Rice. He stood back, grinning as he studied his creation.

"Right! Let's serve it up!" Yuuji hurriedly grabbed two bowls, equal servings going into both, and the large amount of leftovers (for the lazy Akihisa) being stuffed into the fridge.

Slowly, he made his way to their room, where his wife had woken up, and was now looking through their photo album.

"...Did you cook?" Shouko's eyebrow arched, as she set her album down, watching Yuuji as he carefully made his way over to the sick woman, and sat on the edge of the bed.

"Here! Vegetable Fried Rice; You said home cooked is better, right?" Yuuji asked, handing Shouko the dish before starting to eat his own. Shouko stared down at the food for a moment, before eating.

It might have just been her illness, but the pink tint to her cheeks may as well have been a blush, seeing as the woman was flustered by the sweet action.

Yuuji finished quickly, his appetite being overwhelming as per usual, setting the bowl down next to Shouko's empty glass of water on the bedside table. He turned to his wife, and immediately broke out into a grin.

Shouko was eating the rice (Eating, not shoveling, unlike a certain redhead), a small smile on her face. And for once, in a long time, she looked content just being able to sit and eat.

As Shouko noticed Yuuji staring, the redhead leaned over, smiling as he pushed back the black fringe, and pressed velvety lips to a high temperature forehead briefly, affectionately, before he pulled away and stood, taking the empty dish and glass before leaving the room.

"Thank you, Yuuji..." Shouko murmured when the tanned man walked back inside the room. Yuuji simply grinned, and sat down on the edge of their bed, only to be tugged onto the bed to sit next to his wife.

Thin arms covered by pajama sleeves wrapped around Yuuji's thin waist, with Shouko's head resting on his chest, before her eyes slid closed.

"You're welcome." Yuuji whispered and grinned, threading thin fingers through the black hair as his wife drifted off into a slumber, the occasional cough or sniff the only disturbance. Yuuji's eyes then suddenly caught sight of a picture of themselves in their younger days, possibly taken during the Fumizuki baseball tournament, in their album.

"_ONLY YUUJI! I WON'T ALLOW YUUJI TO SAY THIS!" _

Of course he remember how mad Shouko was on the day she slapped him for the very first time. What a painful slap that was, painful enough to wake him up from his delusion; the delusion that marriage is scary and constrictive.

Taking care of your beloved woman for the rest of your life, the redhead concluded, that it wasn't a bad thing at all.

And this was why Yuuji loved taking care of his wife.

Not because of self satisfaction, oh no.

But because of the moments like this.

The peaceful ones; Ones that only those two could have with each other.


End file.
